


Gold Medal Bets

by MaraMcGregor



Series: Adventures with Baked Potatoes [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 2014 Winter Olympics, Background Relationships, Coffee Shops, Figure Skater Eric "Bitty" Bittle, M/M, Meet-Cute, Well Intentioned Bets, background Kent "Parse" Parson/OMC, background OWC/OWC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraMcGregor/pseuds/MaraMcGregor
Summary: Eric Bittle never quit figure skating. He's representing the US at the Sochi Olympics and a favorite in the Men's Singles. Alexei Mashkov is thrilled to represent Russia in Sochi. Added benefit: his captain, Jack Zimmermann, is representing Canada. And then he watches the Men's Singles short program with his Mama. He is enthralled by the short American who lights up the ice with his routine. He needs to know this person. He needs a date.





	Gold Medal Bets

“Zimmboni! I am having problem.”

Jack looked up from the bench he was sitting on in the middle of the Olympic Village to find Tater wringing his hands and chewing on his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong? Your teammates are treating you okay, right?”

Tater’s face twisted in confusion. “My team? They are fine. The best. We will be beating Canada for gold medal, you see.”

Jack smiled up at his friend. “You wish. So what’s the problem?”

“You know mother is famous Russian figure skater?”

Jack chuckled. “Yeah, Tater, you’ve said. A few times.”

“She is here for Games.”

“Really?! That’s great news!”

Tater nodded, but didn’t smile. “She is best. But she is also watching figure skating.”

“Well, that kinda makes sense, Tater. It _is_ her sport.”

“Yes. And I am happy she can watch. But. But, I watch with her.”

Jack was deeply confused. “I don’t get it. Isn’t that the point of the Games? You get to hang out with people from other countries and watch athletes in other sports.”

“Yes, but we watched team event. There is American skater who is absolutely beautiful. They are like poetry when they dance. And coach is Russian. They show them talking in Russian and sound like sun coming from behind cloud on cold winter morning.”

Jack smiled. “Sounds like you have it bad, Tater.”

“Yes. Is as you say. Having it bad.” Tater finally sat down next to Jack. “But, Zimmboni, is not American girl figure skater. Is American _man_ figure skater.”

“Does your mom not know that you’re bi?”

“Not … obvious?” Tater frowned. He knew he got the word choice wrong, but figured Jack would get what he was going for. “I tell her and she no care. Says loves me, but should stay in US. In Russia, is not good for men like us.”

“Are you worried about your position with the Falcs?”

Tater shook his head.

“You know the Falcs have your back. The NHL isn’t the most accepting,” Jack said with a wry grin, “But the guys won’t stand for anything said against you on the ice. I mean, I’d be a giant hypocrite if I let the team do anything but be supportive if you date a guy.”

Tater gave a small smiled and slapped Jack on the shoulder, hard. “I’m knowing this. You good captain, Zimmboni.”

Jack grinned and bumped shoulders with Tater. “Okay. So what’s the actual problem?”

Tater grimaced. “Am having internal crisis? Want to talk to beautiful skater, but not sure if right time. He is American. I could wait until we are back in States and not worry about image. But, if wait, I might miss chance to woo him. He might not be interested. He might be straight or if not, not out. Is high visibility at Olympics. Not good to start scandal when so much attention.”

“I’m not the best person to go to for relationship advice. I mean, the guys call me Captain Clueless for a reason.” Jack watched Tater’s face fall and quickly changed course. “But, I’ll give it my best shot!”

Tater grinned and twisted to face his teammate better.

* * *

Tater waited outside of the American dorms, perched on the artistically styled bench and bounced his leg, trying not to let his nerves get the better of him. Finally, _finally_ , several loud and chatty Americans exited from the dorms.

Jack was watching from what he hoped was a discreet distance. They had gone over several scenarios and had ultimately decided that two large hockey players might be a bit intimidating. Tater had wanted pick up line suggestions, but Jack told him that lines were more Kent Parson’s wheelhouse. Instead, he suggested that he use his own words but keep the volume modulated in the beginning. Tater worried that he might make a fool of himself if he forgot the words in English. Jack just nudged him and reminded him that the figure skater knows at least a little bit of Russian, so he could always fall back on it if he needed to.

Alexei slowly unfolded himself and approached the group. “Umm. Eric Bittle?”

The blonde figure skater emerged from the middle of the group. “Yes?”

“You no know me. Alexei Mashkov. My mama and I watched your short program for Team event. Was magnificent. Had so much expression, passion. Is very beautiful.”

Eric blushed and laughed brightly. “Thank you! What’s your sport?”

“Play hockey for Russia. Play in NHL in Providence.”

Eric quirked his eyebrows and tilted his head. “The Falconers?”

“Yes! You know?” Alexei couldn’t contain the excitement leaking into his tone and volume.

“I went to school in Boston. I was surrounded by Bruins fans. It would’ve been suicide to not follow at least the local teams.”

Alexei fiddled with the cuffs on his sleeves. He glanced at the American skating team and tried to guess what their reactions would be if he asked Eric out in front of them.

Eric broke the silence, taking pity on the clearly anxious man in front of him. “What brought you to the team event?”

Alexei’s smile returned full force. “Mother skated for Soviet Union. Larissa Zamotina. She came to support me. But, wanted to watch skating that didn’t conflict.”

Eric smiled. “Really? That’s great! Didn’t she retire in 1990? And then she did Disney on Ice, right?”

“Yes! Retired when found out pregnant with me. Learned skating from her. Learned hockey from father.”

“That’s amazing! I’m glad she could make it. Will you be able to watch any of our other events?”

“Depends on tournament. If do well, not so much. Many conflicts. Hoping to play Captain in championship game."

Eric smiled encouragingly "And lord it over him if you do I'm sure."

"Yes! Would chirp Zimmboni for next four years."

Eric looked back at his teammates, who were all trying to pretend that they weren’t listening in on the conversation. “Y’all go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”

They left without too much fanfare. One leaned in and said something that made Eric blush to his ears before he was chased off with a, “Hush, you.”

Once they were alone, Tater pulled off his beanie and wrung it in his hands. “I am not knowing if this is right place. But you are very beautiful skater. Was hoping, maybe, you would be interested in getting coffee with me? And—and if goes well, maybe we see each other again at home?”

Eric smiled up at the large, sweet man and nodded. “That would be lovely. So, Alexei, are you from around here? Or some place else?”

“Can call me Tater. Everyone in Providence does. Maybe everyone in hockey world.” He carefully nudged Eric with his elbow as he led the way. “I am from St. Petersburg. Spent youth between there and Moscow. Came to Sochi a couple times with parents on vacation in summer.”

Eric forced himself to not take Tater’s arm in his. “Very well, then. Tater it is.”

They walked side by side, careful to not breach a measured and respectable distance between their arms. The coffee shop was just outside of the Olympic Village. Sochi was much warmer than the typical locations for the Winter Olympics. _That’s what they get for selecting a resort town that was known for their beaches._ Tater wore his light team jacket instead of the heavy winter one. He wasn’t sure if he’d have to pull it out again except for the Closing Ceremonies.

The walk was comfortable and they kept up a running stream of small talk. Tater enjoyed listening to Eric ramble on about inconsequential things. It was clear that he paid attention to the little details when things mattered to him. Tater hoped that maybe he could be something Eric would go on about like that in the future. He held open the door to the cafe and watched for Eric’s expression when they went in.

Eric had to refrain from cooing over the adorableness of the coffee shop. The lamps hung from the ceiling and were covered in what looked like lace. The seating was eclectic and plush. And everywhere he looked, he could see a new knick knack. The menu was in both Russian and English, much to his relief. He could speak enough Russian to get by. But, read it? Not so much.

“Are these trees fake? They’re too cute tucked in between the couches like that. And the fairy lights are perfect.” Eric got slightly distracted by a throw pillow on a mismatched couch. “Alexei, can we sit here? I didn’t see a sign—”

Tater grinned. “Yes, can sit anywhere. Have best coffee. Good food, too.”

“What’s your favorite?”

Tater leaned in and whispered, just slightly too loudly, “Fresh oysters.”

Eric blushed and cleared his throat. “I’m sure they’re lovely.”

“Is very important to keep good blood flow.” Tater gave him a saucy wink and sat down across from him.

Eric covered his mouth as he tried to stop himself from snort-laughing. “Oh my good gracious, you are incorrigible!”

Tater smiled and raised his arm high to get a server’s attention. It didn’t take long for one to trot over. Her practiced customer-facing smile faded when she saw who it was. “Alexei Mashkov! _It is an honor to have you. What can I get for you? Anything to help you win gold?_ ”

Eric smiled at her enthusiasm and Tater’s genuine look of joy when he was recognized. He couldn’t help but lean forward and tease them both. “ _I have a feeling it’s going to be quite the challenge with him having to take on his own Captain_.”

Tater laughed. “Yes, it will be challenge. But makes win all the better.”

The waitress smiled, slightly confused, and glanced at Eric’s outfit. “American?”

“Yes, ma’am. _But don’t worry—I am passable in Russian. My coach would never forgive me if I couldn’t understand her yelling at four in the morning._ ”

Both the waitress and Tater nodded, well aware of the fear that a good Russian coach would bring to the hearts of any high performance athlete.

“ _What can I get for you?_ ”

Tater did _not_ order oysters, much to Eric’s relief. Eric got pumpkin soup and Tater followed with the cream of mushroom. Both of them got coffees that were so sweet they might as well have not even bothered being called coffee anymore.

Eric enjoyed the light-hearted conversation and laughing at Tater getting foam all over his upper lip. If they had been in private, Eric would have been sorely tempted to clean Tater’s lip with his thumb and lick it clean. But, they were in public, and in _Russia_. A point made more obvious when a gaggle of fans spotted them.

“Which do you think is going to be first? I am betting on short brunette.”

Eric couldn’t help himself, he leaned in and kept his voice low, “Oh? And what do I get if I win?”

Tater smirked. “What are you wanting? A good night kiss?”

“Now, Mr. Mashkov. I do believe you might get too much enjoyment from losing, in that case. No. It should be something properly enjoyable for me if you lose.”

“And what would that be?”

Eric smirked. “I need someone to set up a teammate with. Know any other guys that might be interested in an American man?”

“You are asking for date for friend?” Tater was confused, but pleasantly surprised that Eric wanted to do something nice for a friend instead of himself.

“Oh, I want to stop him bitching about being at the Olympics and not getting laid. He plops down and yammers away at the figure skaters. Like we have time to handle his lack of sex. He just needs someone who is interested in a one night stand for him to have—and I’m quoting—‘the real Olympic experience.’”

Tater’s booming laugh startled several of the other patrons, but they promptly went back to ignoring them when they saw who it was. “Yes. I am thinking of someone. Several someones. Does he have preference?”

“Well, probably best if they don’t play hockey. And I really didn’t need all the details that he has shared about what he wants, but someone that can lift him up and—” Eric signalled a set of air quotes, “‘that can fuck his brains out.’”

Tater slapped his knee. “Am already liking your friend. I think of several people. Maybe Finnish snowboarder? Is not fully out, but not shy about what he likes.”

“Feisty assholes that are _very_ pretty and have an obsession with Britney Spears?”

“I don’t know about Britney Spears. But, feisty pretty boys, yes.”

“Perfect.”

“Good. Then if I win, I would like for you to meet my Mama. She is loving your dance.”

Eric ducked his head and blushed. “That would be an honor, Tater.

“Is settled. Who do you pick?”

“The one in the middle. The blonde?”

They tried to focus back on their conversation, but their attention was split every time they heard a giggle come from the group of fans. The server came back over, passed them their check, and thanked them for their business.

Eric sighed. “Welp, guess they didn’t have the nerve. Do you want to go over to them?”

Before Tater could reply, the smallest of the group came up to them, smiling shakily. “ _Alexei Mashkov? I—we—were hoping that we could get your autograph?_ ”

Tater gave her a broad smile. “ _Of course! I am happy to._ ” He waved at the rest of the group and they hurried over in a bunch.

“ _Could you ask Eric Bittle if we could get his, too?”_

Eric gave Tater a wink and replied for himself. “ _I’d love to. Do you have anything you’d like me to sign?_ ”

The girls squealed and quickly pulled out various programs and flyers. It didn’t take long to get them squared away, the fans gushing over their newly signed mementos back at their table.

“Looks like we both lost.”

Tater grinned. “If both lose, we both get what we asked for, yes?”

Eric raised his empty cup in a mock salute. “That sounds delightful. You just tell me when and where to meet your mother. The date is going to take a bit more finagling.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Well, my friend doesn’t want to bring anyone back to the American dorms when he has a roommate that’s constantly there. But Melissa’s wife—Joannie—is Canadian and hasn’t been to her room since day one. She’s basically become a permanent resident on our hall. She might be willing to lend her room for a good cause. We’d just need to confirm with her that she didn’t have anyone bunking with her.”

“Sounds like good plan. No one in Canadian dorms would care. And as long as they enter quietly, not likely to get stopped.”

“I’m sure they can be discreet. Right?”

Tater nodded enthusiastically. “If I am knowing that all I have to do is be quiet and I can sneak into dorm to see cute figure skater, I am making myself quiet as mouse.”

Eric blushed and waved him off. “Oh, _hush_ you.”

* * *

“Kent, I swear to all that is holy, if you make me look bad, you will never have my cooking again. I went through the trouble of arranging a booty call for you and you are being dramatic.”

Kent sighed and tossed another shirt on the ground. “I am a disaster. I have literally _nothing_ to wear to impress a stranger.”

“That’s it. I’m calling in reinforcements.” Eric wandered down the hall and knocked on a door. “Melissa? Are you and your wife in?”

The door opened and a short woman with long black hair to her waist blinked up at Eric. “Before I disturb my wife’s afternoon nap, what do you want?”

“Kent’s being stubborn about the date. And if he doesn’t just _pick_ something to wear, he’s going to be late. And Joannie’s generosity will go to waste. She plays hockey, tell me she can give him the kick in the pants that he needs.”

“Fuck.” Melissa turned around and let the door shut. Several moments later, the door opened again and out came Joannie, her hair tousled from sleep and a her arms crossed in front of her, showing off her rather impressive biceps. “If he wasn’t the only thing you Americans have going for the men’s team, I’d let him have his crisis just so that I could get some sleep.”

“But then your wife wouldn’t be getting any rest because he won’t leave the figure skating team alone.”

“Ugh.” She pushed off the door frame and stomped down the hallway to Kent’s room. “Parson, get your tight ass into a pair of pants if you want it fucked tonight. He’s a snowboarder. He won’t give a fuck. Show him your tat. He’ll appreciate it.” She bent down and tossed a button down shirt to him. “Put that on. And for god’s sake, keep the sex in the room, eh? No fucking in the lounge or other public spaces.”

Less than a minute later, Kent strode out of his room and gave the people in the lounge a saucy wink and wave.

Eric stood next to Joannie. “Thank you. I thought he’d never leave.”

“I’m going back to bed. We have a match tonight.”

In all seriousness, Eric thought that would be the end of things. He fully anticipated that Kent would go meet up with this Finnish snowboarder, go to Joannie’s assigned room in the Canadian dorm, have wild sex all night, and leave everyone alone once his itch had been scratched. He should have known that he wasn’t so lucky.

It started with a few giggles down by the Canadian dorms. He was passing them on his way to the rink when he heard a couple of the girls trying to keep their voices quiet, but not succeeding. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to do _that_ right next door to Zimmermann.”

“Americans.”

Eric had one of those gut feelings. He pushed it down and put his earbuds in. He had to focus on practice. But, that feeling didn’t leave him the entire day. It wasn’t enough to throw him off, but he knew that his presentation was lacking. Pensive was not the emotion he was trying to evoke with his routines. However, as he was walking back to his dorms, Alexei ambushed him.

“I am thinking we are in trouble.”

“Oh dear Lord. I was hoping I was wrong.” Eric sighed and mentally braced himself. “What happened?”

“Your friends room? It was next door to Zimmboni. Kent and Ville were very loud. Hit it off great. But Zimmboni awake all night while they are fucking. And did not go over so well in morning. Ville is saying that Zimmboni was very upset that Kent would be so insensitive. But Kent not knowing that he was next door. I am not knowing, either. Is simple mistake. Now Zimmboni is saying harsh things to Kent and—”

“Let me guess. Kent said even worse things to your Captain.”

“I am not sure how to explain to Zimmboni? Is not meant to be mean. Just way for two people to have sex in safety in country where it is not safe.”

“Okay. We got this. I’m going to talk to Joannie and see what she says. It was her room. She knew what we were planning.”

Tater reached down and found Eric’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. Am not knowing why Zimmboni so angry. Is not like him.”

Eric looked up and gave him a smile. “Well, we’ll figure this all out and then we can have a sit down and get it aired out. Preferably before it effects any of our performances.”

The two of them quietly walked the rest of the way to the dorms. Just as they approached the American dorms, they were nearly run over by a determined Joannie. They glanced at each other and followed her to the Canadian dorms and up the stairs.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann.”

Eric and Tater stopped just outside the doorway and peaked in.

“Ouais?”

“Don’t go Francophone on me. Did you really chew out an American in front of everyone on this floor for having sex?”

“I—”

“Seriously? Did you want to come off as a homophobic dickwad, eh?”

“Joannie—”

“Don’t even start with me. How did you think they got the key to the room? Did you think it magically appeared out of thin air? I gave it to them. So they could have some fun in a safe space. But you had to go all hockey bro on them. And now I’m hearing all sorts of nasty as shit rumors on my wife’s floor.”

“I didn’t mean that. Kent knows that I have a routine. He knows how important getting a full night’s sleep is. He should be doing the same, considering he’s the Captain of their hockey team.”

“Oh, Kent _knows_ that you yelling at him for having sex with a guy isn’t you being homophobic. Pull that stick out of your ass, Zimmermann. You are far too serious for your own good. News flash. We are at the _Olympics_. It’s time to put all that training to work and have fun doing it. If you aren’t having fun, why are you even here?”

Eric looked up at Tater and put a finger over his lips. Before he could take a step to get down the stairs, Joannie’s voice rang out again. “And don’t think you two meddlers are going anywhere before you come clean to Jack about what was going on.”

Tater shrugged and wandered into the lounge. “Zimmboni! I am hearing that you are being very rude to guests last night.”

“Tater? What do you have to do with anything?”

Eric scrubbed his face with both hands and strode in behind Tater. “Well, you see, my friend was looking for someone to enjoy some time with and Tater said he knew somebody that might fit—”

Tater patted Eric on the shoulder and looked directly at Jack before addressing him. “We are having bet and both losing! So, Eric is to meet Mama and Kent is to get laid. It is win-win for everyone. Even if both lost. We are asking Joannie for permission for Kent and Ville to use room since she is not using it. Seems like best solution all around.”

Jack nodded, still seemingly confused. “So, Kent didn’t know I was next door?”

Joannie rolled her eyes. “No, you giant hockey dumbass. However, _I_ did.”

Everyone in the lounge turned to look at her in awe and a little bit of fear.

“You need to loosen up, Zimmermann. You don’t have to get laid while you’re here. But, fuck’s sake, hang out with some people outside of the rink, eh? And maybe don’t be a dick when other people are having a good time.” She shook her head and turned to go back to her wife. “You know, I’ve been to the Games a couple of times. They only come once every four years. Soak it up while you can. Don’t get lost in your own head. That’s how you lose. And I’m not just talking about medals.”

Tater and Eric watched her leave and then realized they were both very out of place standing in the middle of the Canadian dorm lounge.

“Well, it was very nice to meet y’all. Have a lovely day!” Eric grabbed Tater’s hand and gently rushed them out.

Tater twisted his body enough to yell over his shoulder while still being led by Eric, “Have good day, Zimmboni! Many thanks for help! We warn you next time when we plan something. See you on ice!”

“Oh my Lord, Tater.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

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